


Triple Word Score

by Kaleidoscope_Carousel



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/F, Scrabble, insinuations of polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-18
Updated: 2014-07-18
Packaged: 2018-02-09 11:07:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1980621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaleidoscope_Carousel/pseuds/Kaleidoscope_Carousel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Felicity and Nyssa play scrabble.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Triple Word Score

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CyberQueens](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CyberQueens/gifts).



“That’s not even a word,” Felicity complains as Nyssa lays down her fifth and final letter neatly on top of the triple word score box. 

“If you care to look it up, Felicity Smoak, MIT, Class of ’09, you may. But I assure you, it is most definitely a word.” Felicity reaches for the dictionary, glaring at Nyssa as the other woman settles back in her chair, a slight smile playing at her lips.

“ _Exequy,_ ” she reads, “ _a funeral rite or ceremony; sometimes: a funeral procession—now chiefly used in plural_. Of course. Of course an assassin would choose a word like that.”

“Now, now,” Nyssa says, tallying up the points to add to her already impressive score, “no need for that sort of talk. Besides, I find it uniquely appropriate for your particular situation at the moment.” Felicity glances down at the board, and her cheeks colour slightly. “Are you going to tell your friends, soon, that you are not dead and in no need of those specific rites?” Felicity sighs.

“Yes, it’s just complicated. I remember how angry Laurel was when Sara came back. Oliver will probably look at me like I kicked his dog, and Sara gets that yell-y voice going when she's really upset. Digg probably won't say anything, but he'll just give me his Look, which is way more effective than a Loud Voice. I just don’t want everyone to be angry at me.” Nyssa leans forward and covers one of Felicity’s hands with her own. Her palm is surprisingly soft, considering the intensive training regimen Felicity has seen her go through every day since her arrival in Nanda Parbat.

“Sara had very good reasons for keeping the fact of her existence hidden. And so do you. But eventually she had to reveal herself. I suggest you do the same, sooner rather than later. For the sake of your friends and for yourself. They should not have to mourn that which is not actually lost.”

“What if he comes back? What if me coming home puts everyone in danger?” Felicity says.

“There will be no coming back for the Clock King, not from the place where he has gone. Mr Queen may be reticent to do what is necessary, but I can assure you that _Taïr al-Asfer_ has no such qualms.” Felicity closes her eyes, and draws her hand away.

“I didn’t want Sara to start killing again. Not for me.” Felicity hears Nyssa’s chair scrape against the flagstones, and then feels a hand on her cheek. She opens her eyes. Nyssa is kneeling on the floor next to Felicity’s chair, the same hand that held Felicity’s a few moments before, resting against her face. Felicity is starting to see what drew Sara to Nyssa. For a woman so dangerous, she is in possession of a great deal of gentleness.

“Killing and death are a part of who Sara is. She has learned to accept it and has made her peace with it. As have I, as have all who live in Nanda Parbat. It does not mean that we take lives indiscriminately, or with any great pleasure. But when it needs to be done, that is what we do.” 

“You make it sound so easy.” Felicity says.

“It is not. It is one of the most difficult things imaginable. Killing, taking another’s life, it also takes something from you, every time. We simply need to remember that the loss of one life may help save thousands more. Your Mr Diggle has killed, as has Oliver. They, however, have the luxury of choosing to no longer walk that path. Sara and I, we still must.” Felicity’s face suddenly feels both cool, as Nyssa takes her hand away, and oddly warm. It’s been a long time since someone has touched her, and she misses the contact.

“At any rate,” Nyssa says as she stands and finds her own seat again, “we have a game to finish, do we not?” 

“More like a massacre,” Felicity mutters to herself, as she looks down at her dog’s breakfast of a tile selection, although she does give Nyssa a thankful smile for changing the subject matter. 

“Your turn, Ms Smoak,” Nyssa says, “whenever you’re ready.” Felicity sighs, and stares at the tiles in front of her. One "e", and the rest, consonants. She bites her lip, hesitating, and then places two tiles down on the board,"s" and "e," directly above the "x" in "exequy." Nyssa lifts one delicate eyebrow.

"Interesting choice of vocabulary, Ms Smoak," she says, "is that particular word commonly on your mind?"

"That particular word gives me ten points. Which is seven more than I would have earned anywhere else. I just didn't think that my habit of unfortunate rambling would extend to board games." Nyssa laughs and spells out "kiss," using the "s" that Felicity had placed to form "sex" on the board.

"Is that word often on _your_ mind?" Felicity asks.

"Only in certain company," Nyssa responds. Felicity doesn’t miss the sweeping up-and-down glance she receives from the Heir to the Demon, or the way Nyssa’s hand lingers against Felicity’s longer than necessary when she passes her the bag to pick new tiles. She remembers Sara’s words in the Foundry the night Nyssa had come to help them defeat Slade.

“She totally thinks you’re cute,” Sara had said nudging Felicity as Nyssa and her army disappeared up the stairs. 

“Oh, great. The Heir to the Demon thinks I’m cute. She is kind of terrifying, Sara. Gorgeous, but terrifying. Should I expect to find little notes and gifts hidden around here before she leaves? What do assassins leave as wooing gifts, anyway? Oh please tell me it’s not the severed heads of my enemies, because ew.” Sara just laughed.

“See?” she said, “so cute. Also, don’t worry about it. She respects you, otherwise she wouldn’t have used her full title. Plus,” Sara added with a little wink, “I think I’ll be keeping her pretty busy after the fight.” Felicity tried, and failed, not to let her mind conjure up the images of Sara and Nyssa that Sara’s words implied. And then, because of course her mind would go there, of course it would, the images of Nyssa and Sara. . .and herself. She squeaked and jumped when somebody touched her arm. 

“You ready to go?” Dig asked her, one eyebrow raised quizzically.

“Mhmm, yep, definitely. Ready to go. Right now. Let's do it. Let’s go fight some bad guys,” she said, and scurried off before any other ideas could cross her mind.

“Last tiles,” Nyssa says as she draws her hand back out of the bag. Her words bring Felicity back to the present. And to the very attractive assassin sitting across from her, flirting, if Felicity's not mistaken.

“Can I just call it a game now, before accepting utter humiliation?” Felicity asks.

“There is always a way to create victory from defeat,” Nyssa says, “Do not be so quick to abandon the game. Your move.”

Felicity studies the board for a moment. It's not a very high scoring move but maybe Scrabble isn't the game she wants to win anymore, not when there's something more interesting happening. She picks up the "t" she drew last turn and places it in front of the word "ouch" she'd played earlier—and gotten into a bit of an argument with Nyssa as to whether it was slang or not. At the same time as she's placing the tile, she reaches out with her foot under the table and slides it gently up and down Nyssa's calf. A slight widening of her eyes is the only sign that Nyssa felt Felicity's caress.

That, and the way her voice becomes practically a purr when she says "intriguing tactic, Ms Smoak."

"Call me Felicity," Felicity says.

"Very well, Felicity, it is then." Nyssa says. She doesn't say anything else, but her eyes flicker between Felicity's face and the board as she makes her move, teeth pressed delicately into her bottom lip. Felicity can’t look away from the little indents Nyssa's teeth leave on her skin, and her tongue darts out briefly to dance over her own lips. When Nyssa’s hand moves away from the board, Felicity can see that she’s spelled out the word “breath” vertically connecting to “touch.” 

“Your move, again, Felicity,” Nyssa says and Felicity thinks _screw it_ before reaching across the table to grab the front of Nyssa’s shirt and pulling her in for a kiss. The board and tiles all go clattering to the stone floor. It’s awkward, and rushed, and they bump foreheads before Nyssa kicks the table out of the way, too, and pulls Felicity in close. Nyssa smells like jasmine perfume, and she tastes of mint and honey from the tea she and Felicity shared earlier. Her mouth is warm and insistent on Felicity’s own, and her hands caress the nape of Felicity’s neck and the small of her back. It’s almost too much sensation, and Felicity pulls back for a moment, panting.

“What about Sara?” she asks, forehead resting against Nyssa’s.

“Sara and I have an. . .agreement,” Nyssa says, “and have already discussed what would happen should this situation potentially arrive. For either of us.”

“Oh,” Felicity says, and her brain reminds her of all the times Sara told her she was cute, all the times she caught Nyssa looking at her, and once again brings back the images it had conjured in the Foundry of the three of them. Together.

“But I do think,” Nyssa says, seemingly reading Felicity’s thoughts, “that this may be added incentive for you to reveal that you are still alive. How else could Sara join us if she is not aware that you are here?” Felicity’s breath hitches, and Nyssa laughs before ducking her head to kiss Felicity again. 

"I'm not sure of the results of the board game," Nyssa says, when she breaks the kiss, "but I think I can declare both of us winners." Felicity can't help but agree.


End file.
